


Making Memories

by dayishujia



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Family, Alternate Universe - Future, Alternate Universe - Post-Canon, Baking, Family Fluff, Future Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-04
Updated: 2018-03-04
Packaged: 2019-03-26 17:09:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13862166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dayishujia/pseuds/dayishujia
Summary: Keith and Shiro bake a cake with their daughter





	Making Memories

**Author's Note:**

> for the prompt: "Sheith baking with their toddler."

Keith didn’t have many memories of his parents.

Sure, he had some vague recollections of his parents before his mother left, but not much and nothing very concrete; just a smile, a pair of kind eyes. After that, when it was just him and his father, they were too busy just trying to scrape by to worry about such trivial things as making memories.

It didn’t seem so trivial anymore.

Shiro was different, he knew. Unlike himself, Shiro grew up with a whole family. They were together, happy and whole. They had traditions. They celebrated holidays. They had memories.

At first, the concept had all been so foreign to Keith.

When Shiro first invited him to celebrate the New Year with his family, a holiday Keith also celebrated somewhat when he was just a child, it had been only a year into their relationship and he had never felt more like an outsider. Witnessing Shiro interacting with his family, laughing and playing, it nearly broke his heart.

“Baba!” Brynne squealed. She slammed her chubby little hands into the big, blue bowl on the breakfast nook in front of her, giggling as flour puffed up in little clouds.

She had wispy black hair that was tied into two, curly little pigtails on either side of her head, which Shiro had tied off unevenly before they even heated the oven. The strands that didn’t fit into the ties were held back by a brightly colored headband.

They had only just begun baking and her hand-me-down t-shirt was already well-covered in sugar and flour.

Keith blinked at her, wondering just how many times had she been trying to get his attention. Beside him, Shiro chuckled behind his hand.

“What?”

Brynne giggled again. “Egg!” she declared loudly, pounding her fists into the rainbow dough in the bowl. “Daddy says I need an egg!”

Keith glanced at Shiro. The sleeves of his t-shirt were bunched up by his elbows, flour and sugar blotting his skin and clothes, just like it did their daughter’s. He smiled at him, gesturing to the carton of eggs with his chin.

“Oh.” Keith opened the carton. “How many do you need?”

“What’s it say on the recipe?” Shiro pushed the recipe toward Brynne.

Brynne clapped her hands twice over the bowl, then wiped them on her shirt, ignoring Shiro’s weak protest. She leaned away from the bowl, looking over the paper her father put in front of her. There was a long pause as they waited for her to find the right part.

She bounced in her chair when she found it and declared, “One!”

Keith took one egg from the carton, shuffling to take Shiro’s place as Shiro passed him to replace the carton in the refrigerator. Brynne watched him giddily as he cracked the egg over the side of the bowl, thrumming with excitement to get her grubby little hands in the gooey mixture.  

Once the egg was in the bowl, so were his daughter’s hands.

Keith wanted to tell her to use the spoon they set out for her, but the words died in his throat. Instead, he just watched her mix the batter with both of her hands. He almost forgot Shiro was still in the kitchen with them until an arm curled around his waist.

Shiro placed his chin on his shoulder. “What are you thinking about so deeply?” His lips moved, featherlight, over Keith’s neck as he spoke.

Keith just shook his head.  He didn’t want to answer; he wasn’t sure if he knew how to answer. How could be put into words the feeling bubbling up in his heart as he watched their daughter play in the messy, multi-colored dough?

He wanted to commit every aspect of this moment to memory.

Shiro accepted his silence and hugged him closer. He kissed his neck and murmured, “Happy birthday, my love.”

**Author's Note:**

> misstchotchke @ tumblr


End file.
